A Magic Darker than the Night
by tsuchifuru
Summary: Mello isn't sure he's cut out to be in Slytherin, though he hasn't been sure of a lot of things ever since he met Matt, the Ravenclaw seeker. And there are rumors that Voldemort can kill you now if he knows your name and face. Harry Potter AU. Matt/Mello


_A/N: All right, kids! After a good year of writer's block, I present to you a Harry Potter AU for Death Note. It is AU in the way that, although Snape and a few other teachers are there, most characters are of the Death Note persuasion. And Harry Potter does not exist. please do not ask me to explain why Voldemort exists and Harry doesn't. I don't know either, because after looking at a few HP timelines, I decided I wasn't going to figure that one out. It's an AU anyway..._

_So! Death Note belongs to the lovely Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. Harry Potter belongs to JKJKJKLOLOLOL. And heeeeere we go!_

* * *

Something was bubbling bright green in his cauldron, and Mello felt nothing but horror. It would be the very first time that year – that _absolutely-essential_ fourth year when grades really began to matter if one were to do well on the O.W.L..s – in which he failed to concoct anything remotely passable. Adding to the shame of getting the first assignment of the year wrong, Potions was a class that built on itself, so that if a student messed up on the first lesson, it was highly likely that he'd mess up on the second, and third and so on. It was embarrassing, too; a Slytherin, bad at potions. If things didn't shape up…he'd have to resort to bullying Hufflepuffs in order to keep his fellow house members from disowning him.

Or disemboweling him. Whatever came first.

It was not as if he were a poor student; no, Mello had arrived four years before, windswept and wild as the September night, determined to make something of himself as soon as the Sorting Hat left his head. It worried the teachers once they saw what he was capable of, and when they realized that he did not go home for the holidays, the fear worsened.

Years back, another very determined orphan had made quite a name for himself, indeed.

The teachers watched Mello closely for darker developments: Mello watched the teachers closely with growing suspicion.

The cauldron coughed as he added the caterpillars to it, acrid lime-colored vapor rose from its depths and stung Mello's eyes.

Perhaps he would have done well in Gryffindor, where dwelt the brave of heart, charming and overtly brash. Well, maybe not Gryffindor. He'd have done _much_ better in Ravenclaw, where studying and acting cold were as large a part of the character as were blue and silver stripes and bookishness. Sometimes, he even thought Hufflepuff would've been all right; he was, after all, a hard worker. But he only thought about being sorted into Hufflepuff when he was feeling really depressed, and now was not the time for that, not when the cauldron in front of him was on the verge of boiling over.

His partner for the class seemed to be a model Ravenclaw in that sense. River – that was what Snape kept referring to him as, and he hadn't introduced himself beyond that which was most likely his surname – who was stirring the potion in a fruitless attempt to turn it more green than purple, had spoken only one sentence the whole time: "You collect the ingredients, I'll stew it, and if Matt ever gets here, he'll help you prepare it by chopping the ingredients up." He had white hair, and he was very, _very_ short; if they were not in the same potions class, Mello would have thought he was a first-year. Or a house elf.

A schedule shift had happened that year, some odd rearrangement where Ravenclaw had taken Gryffindor's place in the Potions class with Slytherin, just when Mello was beginning to match Gryffindor-faces to Gryffindor-names. Now there was a whole new class to memorize, like a textbook that moved and changed and would be offended if you got something wrong.

Mello stared at the contents of his cauldron, which were beginning to change from a bright blue to a color more reminiscent of wet cement. "Add some ground daisy root; that might improve it a bit." River muttered, scanning the pages of the open textbook. The instructions looked simple, but the lack of elaboration made them unusually difficult, and the boy was looking at the book as if it held more than the black ink words visible there, his grey eyes rereading line after line. "And if we add…might fix it…now…" he stopped whispering to himself there and began to search somewhat bemusedly for something in the cupboard nearby.

At that moment, the dungeon door flew open and another blue-striped boy – another Ravenclaw, Mello thought, maybe the boy that this River kid had mentioned – tried to sneak in without being noticed.

"Mister Jeevas."

Snape had not been in a very good mood that morning, too many students asking silly questions about what was meant to be an exquisitely simple potion. The ill-fated Ravenclaw boy was the icing on the cauldron cake. He took a breath of stagnant air before he began "You _are_ a Ravenclaw, are you not?"

"Y-yes sir" the boy stammered, stepping into the half-light of the dungeon. He had very messy red hair, as if he'd recently been caught in a windstorm. Something glinted like glass on top of his head, but no matter how he craned his neck to see over the dark and unamused figure that was Professor Snape, Mello could not see what it was.

"Then I am correct in assuming that you would know how to tell time." Snape continued. The class had gone completely silent, except for the sounds of Mello's Potions grade slipping lower and lower with every bubble out of the cauldron.

The Ravenclaw stared at his shoes, which were worn and untied. "Yes, sir." He said in a small voice, not looking up.

"Ah." Snape continued, not seeming to care what answer he got. Mello had a strange suspicion that the professor had practiced this speech before. "So one would assume that there would be no excuse for your lateness. Ten points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Jeevas." The boy opened his mouth but closed it before his words had a chance to doom his class any further. "You may work with…" he searched the room, and gave a strange smile when his eyes fell upon the plight of Mello's potion. "Keehl and River over there."

The student tripped on his untied shoelaces as he reached the station that Mello and the other Ravenclaw were at, and Mello suppressed a giggle. He was the clumsiest person he'd ever –

"Hi, sorry…about that." The boy said, stooping to tie his shoes. Mello could see the top of his head, where bright red hair met orange-lensed goggles not unlike the ones that the flying teacher wore: Quiddich goggles. "I think I just lost you half the points you won in Charms this morning, Near."

"It's all right." The smaller Ravenclaw said, stirring the potion calmly. "I don't think we'll lose too many points on this, after all. I've managed to get it the right color, at least."

The redhead boy looked up at Mello. "I'm Matt." He said with a half-smile. Matt's eyes locked with Mello's for the slightest moment, and Mello felt a sudden shiver up his back, like ice or what happened when the Hogwarts ghosts flew by.

"Mello. I'm Mello." Mello replied, deciding to stare at the potion and not Matt's blue eyes, which were blue like the potion, only brighter and more alive –

"Please turn in your potions…" Snape checked the clock at the back of the room, "in five minutes. At this point, the addition of the ether of banana slug has hopefully made it turn a pale cerulean. And if not…"once again, Snape's gaze rested on Mello's cauldron, "the potion will look unmistakably like Mister Keehl's."

The tiny Ravenclaw boy that Matt had referred to as Near stared at the potion, crestfallen. Matt noticed this quicker than Mello did, most likely because Mello had been using all of his willpower not to jinx Snape right there. "It's all right, Near, I bet you can fix this in two seconds." Matt offered. Near said nothing, and Mello felt awkward. Something wasn't right about the whole situation, and Mello wanted out. Now.

While Snape's back was turned to some other Slytherins – probably giving them help, Mello thought – Mello poured a slimy, banana-smelling liquid into the cauldron, which seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and turned a warm peacock blue. Matt smiled, and Mello felt the icy ghost-feeling again.

A few minutes later, Snape had them hand in their potions. "I suppose this will pass," he muttered, "But you'll have to do better next time, River." Near hurried out the dungeon door, "And Jeevas, I don't care what your Quiddich Captain tells you, coming late to class will not be tolerated." Matt nodded and hurried after the white-haired Ravenclaw, "And Mister Keehl, I would like to know how a Slytherin could do so badly in my class."

"I'm…not sure, sir." Mello said, focusing on the flask of blue liquid, not Snape, "I don't really…I don't know."

"Ah. Well, see to it that you do not produce," he shook the flask in front of Mello, "any more of this. Why don't you ask another student for help when you so readily fail to follow the simplest of instructions? I you only –"

Mello left before Snape could finish. He felt strange, going up the spiraling stairs, like he were in a dream or divination. The sunlight seemed hushed through the windows, feelings were muted and he almost ran right into the boy in front of him. The boy spun around, and Mello saw something gleam on top of his head.

Oh, no.

"Hey," Matt began, but he shook his head and started over. "Oh. Hi. Have you seen Near anywhere? I can't find him anywhere, 's like he disappeared."

"No." Mello said, not sure if his voice was audible over the chatter of a large group of Ravenclaw girls nearby. "I thought he was with you."

Matt shook his head, and his red hair fluttered where his goggles pushed it out at odd angles. He motioned for Mello to follow him down a slightly less crowded hallway, and Mello felt his legs moving though he hadn't intended them to. "Is he…erm…all right?" he asked once they were out of the way of the loud rush of students headed to the Great Hall for lunch.

Matt blinked. "Near?"

Mello nodded.

"Oh, well, yeah, I suppose he is. He's _brilliant_, just…not very good at working with other people." Matt said, contemplating it. "You know. He's shy."

"Awfully short." Mello agreed, though this seemed to bother Matt.

Matt looked around. There were no other students in the hall now. "He's – you won't spread this around, okay? – he's a first-year."

"But he's in our classes!" Mello whispered, the shock not yet having worn off. Near had been short...but a first-year student?

Matt smiled. "I mean, he's a genius, no doubt, but he's still a little kid. You've got to…you know." And Mello found himself nodding.

Mello stormed through his homework that night, wondering what was wrong with him. He had barely passed in potions that day, he'd been _kind_ to a _Ravenclaw_, engaged said Ravenclaw in conversation and made him smile, and he hadn't had any chocolate all day.

He was almost positive that he was going mad. Chocolate, he was sure, would cure any ill, but he had run out of it the day before, and it would be a month before they could go to Hogsmeade.

There had to be chocolate in the kitchens, he thought. He had seen other boys go there, had seen them leave with cakes and sweets and butterbeer…yes, he'd go.

He was the last one remaining in the common room anyway. Mello finished the paragraph he was working on and left.

The kitchens were harder to find than he'd expected. Once there, he stood facing the picture of the fruit bowl, and realized that he didn't know the password. He kicked the painting and went back up the stairs into a stone corridor when he had the strange feeling that he hadn't come this way. Another hallway, another staircase, and he was sure that he was lost. Hadn't four years been enough to imprint a permanent map into his head?

He had a strange feeling that he was in the West wing of the castle, because he could see the mountains through the window he'd just passed by.

He turned the corner and walked right into the redhead Ravenclaw boy, Matt. Not now…

"Sorry, wasn't looking where I was–" he blinked. "Hey! Mello! What're you doing in the Ravenclaw…area?"

"Er – nothing." Mello answered. The last thing he needed was a Ravenclaw knowing that he was lost. "Just looking around. For a teacher."

"Oh…" Matt seemed to accept it. "Professor Lawliet?"

"No, Snape. Wanted to see him about that potion today." Mello was outrageously adept at lying, which, he supposed, came with the whole Slytherin package-deal.

Matt looked relieved, though Mello could see nothing that would cause him to be so. He smiled at Mello again. "Sorry I was late to class. Quidditch, you know. Our captain's mad; makes us practice after we're supposed to. I'm actually really good at Potions."

"I'm awful at them, isn't that weird?" Mello heard himself saying.

"Maybe we could practice together," Matt suggested, "Our potions, I mean. Maybe on Friday?"

"Yeah, sounds good, so long as nobody knows. How weird would that be – a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw." Mello added. He felt a little unnerved by this whole situation. The sooner he was back in the common room, back in his bed, asleep, the better.

"How 'bout in the empty classroom on the second floor?" Matt asked cheerfully, spinning a bit as he turned a corner and continued down the long corridor to the Great Hall. "It's so dusty in there, I don't think anyone's been in it for ages. It'd be…oh, _no_." He stopped walking, and Mello almost ran into him.

"Near." Matt whispered, and he rushed to the end of the corridor, where the small boy was leaning against a marble pillar with his back turned so that only wispy silver was visible above the cloak. The boy half-jumped when Matt shouted "Near!" and at this he pressed himself more determinedly against the marble. Mello caught up to them as Matt grabbed the boy's shoulder and pulled him forward to face them.

the dark red stains on the front of his robes were not as alarming as those on his face; his pale white skin posed a stark contrast to the blood dripping from it. The ends of his robes were, upon a closer examination, singed.

Mello stepped back in alarm: Matt stepped forward.

"What happened to you?" Matt exclaimed, horrified, and the horror very quickly melted into something closer to rage. "Who did this, Near?"

Near mumbled a bit, but did not yield the information required. Matt's face had gone strangely pale, and his freckles stood out on his cheeks.

"I'm going to go get L." Matt suddenly turned to Mello, who had been observing this whole scene and had been fighting off the sinking feeling that had been strangely present since they'd seen Near a moment ago. "He's the only one Near talks to, other than me. Watch him, 'kay?" Mello nodded, unsure of what that meant. And Matt disappeared down another corridor, leaving Mello to stare.

Near inched closer, looked up at the glaring Slytherin badge, and inched back.

The realization hit Mello swiftly, as soon as he saw Near's face. Now, in the natural light of the castle, he recognized him as the boy that he and some fifth-year comrades had decided to torment while they patrolled the halls after dark a few weeks ago…

The door nearby opened suddenly, and Mello was about to launch into a speech about how he and Matt could never work together and that they might as well never meet and practice potionmaking because it just couldn't happen, the laws of the universe could never permit a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw to be anything but enemies, and even how he felt dizzy when Matt was talking to him, probably because Matt was so good and pure and Mello was an awful person who hung tiny Ravenclaw boys upside-down in the hallways at night.

But the person who came through the door was not Matt. The person who came through the door was an adult, a teacher. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who was rumored to be mad.

And the teacher's dark eyes sized up the situation, from Mello to Near, to the blood on Near's robes to the incriminating green and silver badge on Mello's.

Mello looked up at the professor.

"I-I didn't…wasn't me…"

The professor just stared

"I'd like to see you both in my office, right now." The professor said, leading Near through the door that he'd just come through. Mello had no choice but to follow, as the teacher glared at him from above, like an owl preying upon some poor mouse that was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

As the door closed behind them, the professor took a wand out of the pocket of his robes.

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_Cliffhanger? Oh but of course :D Chapter 2 coming up soon!_

_A **big** thank you to my dear Beta, Ninja Basket._

_Reviews would be much appreciated, thank you. I'd really like to know what you think of it! _


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